"Answering your previous question," Arthur said, his voice heavy and hoarse amid the oppressive silence of the throne room.
He drew a long breath, his exhale forming a white puff in the cold air, his sharp eyes never leaving the calm figure on the throne. "I think... we won't win."
Charles was stunned for a moment upon hearing that, the muscles in his jaw tightening. But the next second, his lips curved into a bitter grin. "Heh, good," he hissed, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the remnant of his broken sword more tightly, adrenaline surging through his veins.
"In that case, we don't need to hold back."
Without further warning, Charles lunged forward.
He moved like lightning, his body becoming a blurred shadow crossing the cracked marble floor, dust and stone fragments flying in his wake.
The floor beneath his feet seemed to scream as he propelled himself forward at an inhuman speed.
The air around him whistled, and the sharp tip of his sword, enveloped in cold killing intent, aimed straight at the heart of the king sitting calmly on his throne.
However, at that moment, the man on the throne didn't even flinch.
His pale, emotionless eyes merely stared coldly at the approaching Charles.
Just as the tip of Charles's sword was mere inches from his chest, he simply raised two fingers in a casual, dismissive gesture.
TING!
A loud, clear clanging sound echoed, as if the sword had just struck impenetrable steel.
Charles's eyes widened in horror as his sword halted completely in mid-air, held back by two seemingly ordinary fingers.
The shockwave from the impact traveled up his arm like an electric shock, numbing him up to his shoulder.
With a small, contemptuous flick, the king threw Charles backward, causing him to tumble several times across the dirty floor before stopping in an awkward position, his lungs feeling like they were on fire.
At that moment, Arthur leaped forward, a war cry erupting from his throat, his sword—The Warden's Dawnblade—swung down from above with all his body's strength.
Its dull blade seemed to cleave the air itself.
This time, the king finally stood from his throne. He didn't block it. He merely raised his open palm, welcoming the devastating sword swing.
BOOM!
The collision between the magical steel and the palm created a blinding energy explosion.
The stone pillars around them shook violently, dust falling from the ceiling, and the floor beneath the king's feet cracked into a massive spiderweb pattern.
Yet, he stood firm, not budging an inch, his palm casually holding back Arthur's violently trembling blade.
Charles and Arthur attacked simultaneously from two different sides, their movements now coordinated. Charles struck with his fighting style, stabbing and slashing at lightning speed, targeting any possible opening.
Arthur, on the other hand, was the destructive force, each swing of his sword aimed to crush and demolish.
However, the king moved with terrifying efficiency. He was like the eye of a storm, calm and unmoved, while his two attackers were the raging winds swirling around him.
After easily withstanding their dual assault for a few moments, the king seemed to sigh.
He extended his free hand into the empty air beside him. Instantly, the air at that point began to vibrate and tear, forming a small, crackling black rift.
From within the rift, he pulled out the hilt of a sword. The sword was simple, a straight blade of pitch black that reflected no light whatsoever, devoid of any ornamentation.
Yet, in the king's hand, that sword felt more threatening than any other!
Charles, who had just risen and was about to attack again, stopped abruptly.
His eyes widened in horror at the sight. 'He pulled it from the void... that's... isn't that inventory?' he thought, his heart feeling like it stopped beating. 'Only a Player can do that! He's... just like us!'
"He's a Player!" he shouted to Arthur.
Arthur nodded. He had known all along. After all, he had experienced that past directly from the source. And the source was the king himself!
At that moment, he attacked again.
Now, the battle turned into a deadly sword duel.
The sharp, rapid clanging of steel now filled the room, each clash creating sparks that illuminated their tense faces.
Every step, every parry, every slash from the king was calculated with deadly precision.
The king's fighting style was so perfect and flawless!
He faced two opponents at once, yet he made it look so effortless.
He parried Charles's thrust, then without shifting his feet, he twisted his body and used the hilt of his sword to strike Arthur's wrist, nearly making him drop The Warden's Dawnblade.
In the corner of the room, Furina could only watch in horror, her body trembling uncontrollably, her sobs caught in her throat.
At that moment, she saw the king slowly walking toward Arthur, who lay weakly, his hand raised, ready to deliver the final blow.
However, as he glanced toward Charles, he noticed something strange.
Charles, who had been lying on the verge of death, was now slowly rising, his body enveloped in crackling purple lightning sparks.
Charles's eyes now shone with a bright purple light, his hair standing on end from the static energy.
The king, sensing the sudden surge of energy, shifted his attention.
He looked at Charles, then at Furina standing fearfully nearby.
At that moment, he had decided something; he decided to eliminate the weakest threat first!
He aimed his black sword at Furina, and a slash of dark energy shot toward the girl at the speed of sound.
Time seemed to slow for Charles.
He saw the slash flying.
He saw Furina frozen in fear.
He knew he wouldn't reach her in time.
With a cry from the depths of his heart, he released all the power within him.
Electro Vision!
He vanished in a flash of purple lightning and reappeared right in front of Furina.
At that moment, the slash struck his back with tremendous force.
A small explosion sounded, and Charles was thrown forward, colliding with Furina, causing them both to tumble across the floor.
His robe was torn, his back severely burned, and fresh blood flowed profusely from his wound.
He had managed to block the attack. But of course, at a very high cost!
Seeing his two attackers now lying on the brink of death, the king approached Arthur again.
He kicked Arthur's sword, sending it flying far into the corner of the room, then raised his foot, ready to stomp on Arthur's head and end it all.
At that moment, Furina, who had been crying silently, lifted her head. She saw her friends lying helpless, she saw the king's cold gaze ready to kill.
Her paralyzing fear was now replaced by a desperation that gave her strength.
Something inside her broke!
At that moment, she saw Arthur's sword, The Warden's Dawnblade, lying not far from her.
With choked sobs, she crawled, then staggered to her feet and ran unsteadily toward the sword.
She grabbed it with both hands, the hilt feeling so heavy and cold.
The king, sensing the movement behind him, turned around. But at that moment, it was already too late.
With a hoarse cry full of suffering, Furina ran forward and thrust the sword with all her remaining strength from behind, straight into the king's back.
For a moment, total silence enveloped the room.
The king froze. He slowly looked down, staring at the dull silver blade now piercing through his chest. His previously expressionless face now showed genuine shock.
He turned his head back, looking at Furina with the gaze of a man.
At that moment, his body began to glow.
Charles and Arthur, still conscious, watched in surprise as the king's body slowly disintegrated, turning into thousands of blue light particles that floated upward like fireflies.
The crystal crown he wore fell from his head, but it didn't shatter. Instead, the crown hovered briefly in the air before gently landing in Furina's hand.
Instantly, a series of system notifications she had never seen before suddenly appeared before her, startling her.
At the same time, the bodies of Charles, Arthur, and Furina also began to glow with a warm golden light.
And in an instant, they vanished from the place, leaving the throne room now silent and empty.
***
In the quiet corridor, as the echoes of the battle finally subsided, footsteps suddenly sounded.
Not hurried or panicked steps, but the calm, rhythmic tread of boots on the cracked stone floor, approaching with clear purpose.
A man stepped out from the shadows, his appearance clean and utterly unaffected by the surrounding chaos.
He toyed with a gold coin between his thumb and index finger, flipping it playfully into the air scented with ozone and dust, then catching it again without looking.
He did this repeatedly, the soft clink of the coin becoming the only music in the silence there.
He entered the throne room, his eyes sweeping the scene around him: the shattered pillars; the cracked throne; and the remnants of pale blue light slowly fading in the air, showing no surprise at all.
At that moment, a thin smile suddenly formed on his lips.
"It seems... it's over."
He stared blankly at the spot where someone had vanished into light particles earlier.
"Rest in peace, Nameless King," he whispered to the silence.
He paused for a moment, feeling a warm golden light beginning to emanate from within him.
He looked at his glowing palm, his smile now tinged with a strange melancholic note.
"Or should I call..."
"Myself?"
***
Shortly after the man vanished in a flash of light, a new, different point of light suddenly appeared in the middle of the throne room.
It wasn't a warm golden light, but a pure and cold silver one.
The point of light suddenly shone brightly, and from within it, a human silhouette emerged with unmatched grace.
Her long hair was golden blonde, matching her large eyes that sparkled like two pieces of molten sun. Her gaze seemed so graceful, yet in its depths lay infinite sorrow, as if she had witnessed thousands of tragedies.
She was a girl so beautiful she seemed unreal.
She looked around the ruined room in silence, her clean white dress fluttering gently in a mystical breeze felt only around her, carrying the faint scent of stars and freshly bloomed lilies.
After observing in silence for a few moments, she sighed.
Then, without a single word, her body turned back into a small pulsing light, before finally vanishing without a trace, leaving the throne room in a silence that now felt more sacred and peaceful.
***
On a silent hilltop, Henri stood alone.
The cold morning wind blew through his disheveled hair and tattered clothes, but he didn't feel it.
His gaze was fixed on two fresh mounds of earth before him. They were two simple graves, which he had dug himself with his bare hands, now standing as the final monuments to his two friends.
On each headstone made from rough river stones, their names were carved: Chloe and Bill. On the graves lay two simple silver rings, gleaming dimly under the gray sky's light.
At that moment, for the first time after what felt like an eternity, the sun suddenly rose from the eastern horizon. Its warm, golden rays slowly crept over the hill, chasing away the long shadows and touching Henri's tear-streaked face.
He was startled for a moment, his weary eyes widening, before a sincere yet bitterly filled smile formed on his lips.
He looked up, feeling the sun's warmth on his skin for the first time.
At that moment, he suddenly felt something strange. A warm golden light began to emanate from within his body. He was confused for a second, but he didn't resist it.
He would accept whatever fate gave him.
Because in the end, fate cannot be denied.
( End of Volume 2 )
***
A/N: Alright, we've reached the end of volume 2. This has been a long journey, truly!
Ummm... the next volume will be the final one... but honestly, I haven't even made a draft yet. No story is coming to mind right now. I don't know how to continue this story hahaha... I'm exhausted. But as a challenge to myself, I'll finish it no matter what.
Btw, I'm still expecting comments!
If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
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